Chapter Text
The view that Gohan was taking in was leaving him almost breathless. The wind ruffled the leaves high up on the Ajissa trees, sunlight broke through the clouds above, making the blue-green grass shimmer along the foothills, and the sound of the sparkling river teased his ears.
He had set up camp close to the nearby forest for two weeks now. Every day the demi-Sayajin had ventured farther and farther in, searching and studying. When he would come across an interesting new species of plant or animal Gohan wasted no time jotting down his observations in his notebook, carefully taking samples, and pictures with his phone's camera.
Of course, the phone was completely useless far out in space on the Nemekian home world, but his ship wasn't too far away. He had landed only about two miles from his current location, next to an established Namekien village. The Nameks who lived there were very pleased to welcome Gohan back to their planet and commented at length at how much the young man had grown since they last saw him.
Now a man, with a wife and child and about as much responsibility as his mind could take, Son Gohan concluded that he needed a break. A vacation to get his mind on straight.
Videl had laughed at him until she had tears in her eyes. He could remember her sitting on the edge of their couch clutching at her ribs while she shook back and forth.
//"I know you need a . . ." She snorted. "A vacation, Gohan, but this? You have to be joking right? You spend all day and all night studying, writing, and teaching. And," Another light bolt of laughter. "Your idea of a vacation is going to study the plant life on Namek?" She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "I'm so sorry, Honey, I know you're tired, and you Do need to take some time off, but how could that be relaxing? Aren't you doing the same thing here? At work?"
Gohan scratched the back of his head, a straight that his father had passed down to both him and his younger brother.
"Videl, please. I know it sounds backward, but trust me. I need this. I think it would do me a lot of good to get away for a few weeks. It took a while to get to Namek in the past, but now with Bulma's brain behind the new tech, I could get there in no time. Plus it's been so long since I have been there. It would be nice to see the planet in a state of peace."
She waved her hand at him.
"I'm not telling you not to go, Gohan. You should go and have a nice time. I just don't understand what you're trying to take a break from if you are going there to do the exact same thing that you do at home. But please don't think I'm stopping you. You need to relax a little. I know work has been exhausting. Between your research and Pan, you haven't been sleeping well. You roll around in your sleep at night, Gohan. It's restless, and sometimes you start to mutter like you're having a really bad dream."
Videl laced her fingers together and placed them on her lap, smile, and laughter drifting away into the past.
"I didn't want to say anything, but it seem appropriate right now. I have been worried that you aren't getting decent sleep. And it's getting worse. I thought that maybe you would bring it up to me, but. . . but you haven't."
Gohan inhaled deeply. No. No, he hadn't brought it up because he didn't want to. He hoped that his wife wouldn't notice his nightly restlessness, but she had. He twiddled his thumbs. Realizing that his gaze had hit the floor in shame, he looked up at her. He could see the question in her eyes. Why haven't you said anything to me, Gohan? He had no idea how to answer.
"I'm sorry, Videl. No, I haven't been sleeping well at all. . .I've been so tired that even sleep feels like work."
He smiled at her reassuringly. The best he could anyway.
"There isn't anything wrong though. Not that I can pinpoint. Nothing to worry about. I just need a break. And I promise to be in contact with you every few days or so when I take samples back to the ship."
She smiled back at him, a little more relaxed, and guilt hit his gut like a stone.
"Okay, Gohan. You do whatever you think you need, okay?"
She was giving him that caring and concerned tone she always used when she was secretly worried about him.
". . . Okay. Thank you, Videl." //
He had left the next day, not being able to bear lying to his wife. He was having a hard time even looking at her.
Gohan let the memory play over again for the hundredth time.
He told no one but Videl and Bulma that he was leaving. And Pan of course. He had to make sure to say goodbye to his little girl and promise her that her daddy would be back soon, safe and ready to play. The last thing he needed was for his daughter to feel neglected by him.
He sure as hell didn't tell his mother. Her fretting would most likely cause him to change his mind. He didn't even tell Piccolo. That made his insides twist. If anyone should have known, it should have been Piccolo.
Gohan felt the heat rise to his cheeks while walking back into the dense trees.
-I've got to get a handle on this. . . what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to feel?!-
His hands shook with anger. Anger at himself for being so stupid and weak. It was all because of Piccolo that he was going through everything that was happening now. The shame, the guilt, and the fear. He rubbed his damp palms over his face and sighed.
-Of course, it's not his fault. . . It could never be his fault. . . If he knew. . . fuck I don't know what to do. I needed this as a distraction but being here. . . I knew it would be counterproductive.-
Everything here reminded him of Piccolo. How couldn't it? It was his best friend's home world after all.
Gohan wrestled with his feelings since he was very little. It was harsh and damaging to him to be in love with his mentor, knowing that the alien could never return his feelings. Yes, he was grown now, but that would never change the fact that Piccolo would always see him as a child, face covered in snot and crying into his cape.
He tucked his emotions away as best as he could. As he grew, he thought he could put it all behind him. Hell, he had even gotten married. He loved and respected Videl. She was a wonderful martial artist and was as sharp as a knife, not to mention an amazing mother. He thought she was absolutely beautiful.
But he wouldn't call it true love. It wasn't the romance that he had envisioned in his mind since those first lustful thoughts started coming to him during puberty. Even then he was ashamed. His daydreams and too-long showers were a particular shade of green.
After their last battle, it had gotten worse. Right when he thought he had finally gotten his feelings under control, just the right events fell into place, awakening what he had tried for so long to bury. Seeing Piccolo fall through the air in his newfound form sent shock waves of anger through him. Anger at how anything could hurt his friend who had given him so much in this life.
It wasn't soon after that the dreams started to happen. They were giving him the worst fits during his sleep. Sometimes he would see Piccolo falling again. His body plummeted down fast, but in this dream version, Gohan could do nothing. He was helpless, and his transformation never took place. Other times, it was like flashes of old daydreams. Piccolo's body on top of him, muscled abdomen lined with pink and red, rolling above. His chest, smooth and hard under Gohan's fingers. His fanged mouth whispering obscene things into the demi-Sayajin's ear.
He couldn't shake it. He remembered the shock of Videl telling him that he was mumbling in his sleep and prayed he didn't say anything incriminating. He didn't want to hurt her. Nothing good could come of letting his true wants and desires be known. Piccolo would abandon him forever, and Videl would never forgive him.
He knew it was wrong anyway. The Namekien had practically raised him. There was no telling what people would think of him if they ever found out.
Gohan was walking farther into the forest than he had been before. Dry leaves crinkled under his boots and he paid more attention to his surroundings. He knew which way camp was but decided it better to look for a moment in case he noticed anything new in this undiscovered pocket of trees.
The air was heavy here. It weighed down on him like a blanket. Gohan felt his mind grow tired and wondered if he should head back to his tent until a wonderful smell hit his nostrils. He knew the scent instantly. If Namekiens were known for their hearing, then Saiyans were known for their sense of smell.
Musky, soft, and alluring, Piccolo's scent filled his lungs. There were hints of pine sap and wild dandelions right after it rains. Gohan's head whipped around, looking for his teacher hiding among the tree branches. There was nothing there.
- But. . . that's his scent. . . the one he gives off right after a sparing match or battle. . .I know it. It's so specific that it couldn't be anything else. . .-
Gohan scanned the trees again, this time closer to the ground. He sniffed the heavy air.
-It's coming from right over there. . .-
He stepped forward, following the smell over to a rather fat bush nestled between the trunks of two trees. He peeked over the shrub.
-A flower?-
Hiding between the leaves was a small purple flower. It was so tiny that the imminence tone of the scent was almost unthinkable. But Gohan was certain now that the smell was originating from the little plant.
-A flower that smells just like Piccolo?-
He laughed at himself.
-How bad am I really?-
Even nature had turned her back on him.
Gohan bent farther down to reach out for the flower. He studied it for a moment and opted not to pick it. It was the only one he could see in the bush and had never seen it before. He didn't want to harm it.
Gently, he pushed against one of its shiny peddles with his index finger. The softness of its skin gave way, and Gohan yelped when the little thing exploded with a pop. Purple pollen flew into the air, and before Gohan could think to hold his breath, he was already tasting the spores on his tongue.
He coughed and gagged, fumbling backward and landing on his rear. Reflexively, he spat onto the dirt.
-Well, let's hope that isn't bad. . .-
Gohan knew that having spores enter your system that you knew nothing about could result in something horrible. He would be lying if he said that he didn't feel that instant tingle of fear. He shook it off. Instead of panicking, he closed his eyes. Gohan thought hard, remembering the shape and color of the flower. He counted.
-It had only four peddles. . .but they were long. . .pointed at the tips. -
More and more features of the flower came into view. He locked it tight in his mind.
-I'll head back to camp. . .the suns are starting to set. . .Tomorrow morning I will go back to the Village and ask about the flower. I can stop worrying after that.-
Unfortunately, his worry only grew worse with every step back to his little camp. It was getting harder and harder to collect sticks for the fire on his way. A heavy burn trickled down his legs and through the small of his back. On top of that, Gohan was sure that he was starting to run a low-grade fever. His breathing got worse the more he walked. By the time he reached his tent, it pained him to bend down to collect wood. The sharp stabs dug deeper and deeper into his lungs.
- So much for getting anything off my chest. . .-
He laughed at himself. Sweat was starting to pool around his collar and hairline, and he shook his head at how foolish it had been to not just land the ship closer to where he doing his research.
-I'm sick. . .I know it. I've got to reach someone. . .and fast.-
Gohan slowly staggered to his tent and fell to his knees. He fumbled around his sleeping bag and took out a square container, popping it open. Inside were capsules. With shaky hands, Gohan plucked one of them out of its little strap. He clicked it and tossed it far back over his shoulder. A puff of smoke exploded out over the campsite and reviled a small buggy hover car.
Without a thought of packing, Gohan crawled his way up the car and slumped into the driver's seat. The plush fabric offered a hint of relief to the pain digging into his lower back. He felt his fever rising. It was slow, but the pain in his body was packing a punch. He drove as quickly as he could without losing control of the car.
He made it to the village just before the need to cry out became unbearable. His voice rang out over the small structures littering the area, hurt and anguished. He shook, popping open the door and falling to the ground. The villagers surrounded the young man, filling out their houses in the middle of the field.
Gohan groaned, flopping over onto his back. Their faces came into view and he grunted.
"Hel..p. . . purple flower. . .I. . .breathed in the pollen. . .sick. . ."
The small crowd split to allow the village elder to step through to Gohan's side. He knelt low to the ground.
"Gohan!" His withered voice was coming in and out of focus as Gohan writhed on the ground.
"Please, Gohan. Can you tell me more about the flower?"
As best as he could, Gohan described the flower between moans and pants. Through blurring vision, he recognized a look of sudden understanding on the elder's face. A wave of burning pain shot through his spine like a spike. The Saiyan's body jolted with shock, and his eyelids slid shut slowly.
The villagers did their best to make him comfortable. When his eyes opened again, he had been placed in his bed on the ship, a few green faces peering down at him. One of them spoke. He was the oldest of the three and held a stern look. His green skin was slightly darkened by age
.
"We gave you a painkiller that we found in the ship's med kit. How do you feel?"
Gohan grit his teeth.
"I . . .I'm awake. . .But everything burns all over. . .I need to get. . .Home."
His breathing was short and sharp. There were needles in his lungs.
"We are already on the way and nearly there. You have been sleeping for several hours now. Our brother and Earth's guardian have already been contacted. We volunteered to escort you."
"Thank. . .Thank you."
Gohan's skin was slick with sweat. Chills rolled through his body, and his fever rapidly increased. It was as if a mist was flowing over his mind as the spores took hold of his body. Through the fog, a scent broke through
It was Piccolo. Piccolo rinsing off after a spar under his waterfall. Piccolo breathing heavily during battle. Piccolo walking next to him in the forest in calm peaceful silence. It was Piccolo, and it was the flower.
He was drawn right to it. That scent so strong and powerful.
Everything was becoming dull as his fever rose higher and higher. Gohan tried to regain his senses, tried to shake off the feeling of his mind leaving him again, but it was too late. Piccolo flooded him, every small detail of his mentor that he adored so much.
He missed feeling his teacher's strong palm gently touch his shoulder. He knew that it was a simple gesture from his friend, but still, he always found himself leaning into it as much as he could, savoring the touch for as long as it lasted. Gohan was sure that Piccolo never took notice of it. If he did, he never said anything.
Under his jeans, Gohan was growing stiff. Images of Piccolo bounced around his imagination, and the first flashes of heavy need hit him.
-OOH. . .What's going on with me?-
He was panting hard and shaking his bangs that had fallen over his eyes.
"Hold him down so he doesn't hurt himself!"
It was a different Namekien this time. Gohan couldn't see him, but he could hear. The loud voice hurt his already pounding head. When he felt hands gripping his arms and legs it was like being burnt with hot coals. He cried out the only word he could muster, sweat mixed with tears dripping down his face.
"Piccolo!"
As the ship descended on the lookout, Gohan passed out from pain again.
The three Namekians carried him out as best as they could, the young man thrashing and moaning in his sleep. The tallest one of the group held tight under his arms but stumbled twice trying to get him across the lookout's tiled floor.
"This kid is strong."
He huffed through his nose.
Gohan started to mutter, kicking his legs in protest of the hands holding him firm.
"Piccolo. . .Piccolo."
His erection rubbed painfully against his pants, throbbing and aching, begging to be released
.
"Piccolo, please. Please. . .hurts."
Piccolo was the only thing that mattered. The only thing that could end his suffering. His body and mind begged for his friend. No natural stream could quench the thirst he was experiencing. Unknown to Gohan, his teacher stood frozen, clawed hand slightly outstretched, watching him be carried into a chamber while calling out their name.
The door closed behind Gohan, muffling the sounds of his agony only slightly.
Piccolo's heart hammered in his chest.